Three Years Apart Up for Adoption
by Writeurlife
Summary: Hey... I'm giving this story up for adoption
1. Chapter 1

Sirius stepped out of the Ministry of Magic, a rare smile crossing his gaunt face. He was free, but more importantly, the Ministry of Magic had allotted him custody of Harry… James's son. His godson.

"Sirius!" a familiar voice called out to him.

Sirius paused long enough to allow Dumbledore to catch up with him before setting off once more. Although he had been out of Azkaban for the past week, he hadn't even had a chance to get home yet. The Ministry officials were using him as a tool to gain more insight about the death eaters, knowing that Sirius would have heard talk from inside the jail. Until he was through meeting with them and giving them all the information that they desired, they refused to talk with him about getting custody of Harry. At this point, he hadn't even been to Diagon Alley to get a wand (his old one had, of course, been snapped in half). He was anxious to get on with his life before he wasted any more time.

"What's the hurry?" Dumbledore asked with a slight laugh, a twinkle lighting his intense blue eyes.

"Headmaster, I have spent the last three years awaiting this day. I'm not about to go lollygagging about now that it has arrived. I have things to do!" Sirius replied, a tad curt. "Besides, it's nice to stretch my legs."

"You have an agenda, then?" Dumbledore was stalling.

"Yes. I have to pick up some things in Diagon Alley- the shopping list tends to build when you've been away for three years. Remus is making me dinner tonight. We've seen each other since I've been out, of course, but not enough to catch up as much as we'd both like. Tomorrow I'll be stopping in at Privet Drive to inform Harry's relatives that I've got custody of him now, and that I'll be picking him up in a weeks time. That'll give them time to say goodbye, and me some time to get his room in order."

Dumbledore nodded. He wanted to contest that particular move, wanted Harry to stay with his aunt and uncle… Sirius knew Dumbledore's wishes, he had made them clear at the hearing, and he wasn't going to exchange words with the man now. Instead, he would work to make sure that Harry would be as safe as possible with his godfather.

"Where will you be staying? Not with Remus, I presume," there was an implication that if Sirius did, in fact, intend to stay with Remus, Dumbledore would object.

Sirius seemed to hold the same views as Dumbledore on this matter, though. "No, of course not. A four year old needs some semblance of stability in his life, which he won't get if we have to leave every full moon, or even if Remus does. We'll be staying at my parents' old house, Grimmauld Place, for the time being. When Harry and I settle in with each other, I may build a house in the country, but I don't want him to be moving around too much. It will be hard enough for him to leave his aunt and uncle without us moving every two weeks."

Dumbledore seemed satisfied with that answer. At least Harry wouldn't be constantly uprooted. He hadn't had a lot of confidence that Sirius would think of that. Sirius wasn't the most adult of all the people Dumbledore knew, and he did tend to do what he wanted, without regard for consequence. Dumbledore could only hope that the past few years had matured Sirius, if nothing else. He didn't want the man going into fatherhood unprepared, and have Harry suffer for it.

That would all come at a later time. For now, Dumbledore had something more pressing on his mind. He frowned, wondering what to say. It was hard for a man to apologize, even a man as old as Dumbledore. He knew that before Sirius had left for Azkaban, he had respected Dumbledore. Yet now, how could he possibly feel the same?

"Three years ago," Dumbledore began with a small sigh, "I testified at your hearing. I gave evidence that you had been the Potter's secret keeper. I assure you that if I had any idea-"

Sirius raised his hand, silencing Dumbledore, "You told them what you knew. I couldn't expect you to have done anything else."

Dumbledore nodded, accepting the unspoken forgiveness. He apparated away, heading back to Hogwarts. The new term would begin in a couple of weeks, and he couldn't afford to be wasting time when he should be preparing. He still had to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. As for Sirius, he had a lot to do before tomorrow. He started towards the muggle underground; without his want, he was still forced to resort to such means of transportation to reach Diagon Alley.

Sirius stepped off the London underground and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. This was it, he thought to himself. This was the moment of truth. Stepping out of Azkaban had been the greatest feeling in the world, he recalled, and seeing the sun shine and the outdoors had done him wonders. Still, he had been stuck at Ministry hearings from that point on, and despite that being the greatest feeling, this was the most real. This was the moment when he really stepped back into the Wizarding world, the moment when he really began to get his life back.

As he stepped into the room, he felt every eye upon him. News of his release had, of course, gotten around by now, but that didn't mean that everyone was convinced of his innocence. Sirius had no way of knowing how many would accept him. Until now, he hadn't been forced to deal with the thought. Now, however, in a Leaky Cauldron that was silent for the first time in Sirius's recollection, he found that he was feeling very vulnerable without his want. He swallowed, wondering what was on everyone's mind.

A/N: This is my first fanfiction, and I'm really anxious to see what everyone will think about it. I know this first chapter is really short, but I swear that I'll be updating it frequently. I can't tell yet if my other chapters will be a lot longer, but probably - this is midterms week so I haven't got a lot of time.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I've been doing a bit of reaserch and it has come to my attention that Sirius's mum wouldn't have died until Harry was 5 or 6 (there's a bit of a controversy if Harry was born in 1980 or 1981)… I'm kind of fixed with having Sirius take Grimmauld place as his home, so I'm going with it as I had it planned, which means that Sirius's mum would have died approx when he was going into Azkaban. Sorry if that upsets you guys, but, after all, this is AU.

Tom, the inkeeper, was the first to break the uncomfortable silence that had engulfed the place. He spoke as if to an old friend, and Sirius was grateful. The two had never really been close, of course, but he and James used to frequent the Leaky Cauldron and he supposed that Tom remembered him to be a good customer. "Sirius Black! Welcome back! I was wondering when you'd show up."

Sirius frowned at his last words. He wondered how many of the people here had been wondering that exact same thing. The place was overly crowded. Had some of them been frequenting her lately, hoping to catch a glimpse of him? He hoped not. Still, he noticed that nobody seemed to be an immediate danger to him- at least nobody had pulled their wands out.

With an uncomfortable sigh, he made his way to the front of the room and ordered himself a firewhisky. If he was going to be dealing with these kinds of uncomfortable silences for the rest of the day, he'd do better off with a drink in his stomach. Besides, he had to wait around to go into Diagon Alley for someone to let him in.

Usually Sirius would find a table to sit at. Then again, he wouldn't usually be alone. Up until now, he wouldn't bother to come into the Leaky Cauldron at all if he wasn't with James and Remus. Now, though… Things were different now. He took the firewhisky Tom handed him and sat at the counter. He nursed the drink in his hands as he nursed the wounds in his heart, and when he finally ventured a swig it burned going down. Three long years with nothing to drink but water had made his throat intolerable of much else, but at this point, he didn't care.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, drinking. Eventually he noticed that conversations had started up again. It was a dull murmur in the back of his brain, one he didn't pay a lot of attention to. About the time when he finished his first drink and was about to begin another, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He sighed, turning around, and found himself met with the sight of a tall, red haired man surrounded by seven red haired children.

"Arthur," he said, recognizing him dimly. He knew the man was a distant relative, but they had never been too close. Arthur wasn't even on the Black family tree; his grandmother had been blasted off for marrying Septimus Weasley in the first place. As such, Sirius's parents hadn't exactly taken him around Arthur as a kid. They met when they were in school, but had only barely known each other as their social groups were different.

"Molly's off visiting Muriel for the day, and I'm watching the children. Bill and Charlie both need school books," he said. Sirius wondered why the man was bothering to explain his actions for the day, but didn't question it. He just waited for Arthur to get to a point. "I figured you'd need someone to let you in to Diagon Alley."

Sirius smiled and got up from his chair, "Thanks, Arthur."

He followed the man into the alley in the back, noticing as he did that some of the younger red haired children were looking at him fearfully. It was amazing how much they had all changed since he'd gone. Molly had still been pregnant with the youngest one when he'd been taken. Now she was three years old, with large, expressive eyes, and long red hair. She was staring at him as though she'd never seen anyone quite like him before in her life. He tried to smile, but the look didn't come as easily to his face as it used to and she didn't seem to notice the effort.

"Dad?" the eldest of the Weasley boys, Bill, asked, interrupting Sirius's thoughts, "Can I go to Quality Quidditch Supplies while you take Charlie to get his wand? I swear I won't wander off!"

Arthur sighed. Bill was thirteen years old, and as such perfectly capable of looking after himself, but he had really been counting on having his help taking care of the younger kids. Keeping track of seven kids was a handful enough at the house with Molly around to help. Alone and in public, he was already waiting for disaster to happen. Take away his best babysitter and he was doomed. "I really need help taking care of your siblings today, Bill."

"I'll take a couple with me," Bill replied, as if it was the most obvious solution. He eyed his siblings up and down, as if determining which of them would be best behaved. "I'll take Ron with me. Ron and Ginny, if you like."

"If either of them get into trouble on your watch, your mother will have both of our hides," Arthur said tiredly, but it was clear that he was relenting.

"Aw, c'mon, Dad. They won't be a problem," Bill said, rolling his eyes. He turned to the youngest of his siblings. "If I take you away from the stuffy, boring wand shop and bring you to the cool Quidditch shop, you'll behave, won't you?"

The two children nodded eagerly, and with a sigh, Arthur gave in. Bill gave a whoop of delight and Sirius found himself laughing. Funny how nice it was just to see normal family reactions again. He had missed such things through the years. Arthur looked up, as though just remembering that Sirius was there, and he gave a sheepish grin before tapping the brick that opened the entrance to Diagon Alley. "Sorry if I held you up."

"Not at all," Sirius replied pleasantly. He paused before saying the other thing that was on his mind. "I just got custody of Harry. James's son, Harry. I plan on bringing him home some time next week. I have to say, though, that I'm a bit nervous about how he's going to adjust. It might help if he had some friends to play with. What would you say to bringing your boys over some time?"

Arthur smiled at the offer. He didn't have long to think, though, as his children seemed anxious to be off. Being tugged on one hand by the twins who wanted to see a display on dungbombs and on the other by Charlie who was excited to get his wand, he gave Sirius an apologetic look because he couldn't talk. "I'll discuss it with Molly and send you an owl."

Sirius nodded and watched as Arthur was dragged away by his children. He smiled to himself. The everyday encounter had done a great deal to improve his mood after his less than cheerful welcome into the Leaky Cauldron, and he made his way to Gringotts with a lighter step. He hoped that Molly wouldn't mind if her sons went on a play date with Harry. The Weasleys were a decent family, and having them befriend Harry would be a load off of his mind.

By the end of the day, Sirius was realizing how long it would really take him to get everything he needed. Maybe he would need to delay picking up Harry for a couple of weeks, he thought ponderously. He cast the thought aside, figuring that he'd discuss the matter with the Dursleys on the following morning. For now, he had a new wand, new robes, and basic supplies for his house. Perhaps he'd send Kreacher out to collect some more things for him tomorrow…

He couldn't wait to get to Remus's and get some grub, so he apparated to Grimmauld place for a quick shower and a change of clothes. Outside his childhood home, he paused. He hadn't been here since he was a teenager, and his memories from that point hadn't been pleasant ones. He wondered if the house was still as gloomy as it had been. Probably. It wasn't like Kreacher was apt to change it. He was too devout to Sirius's parents for that.

Taking a breath, he stepped inside. The place was a total wreck. It looked as though Kreacher hadn't bothered to clean up once since Sirius's mum had passed away. Dust covered the house from head to foot. Cobwebs decorated the ceiling. Sirius shuddered. He had been prepared for the house to be as dark and dismal as it had been in his childhood. He hadn't reckoned on it being worse. He wanted to talk to Kreacher, to scold him for allowing the house to go to ruins, but he was already running behind. Kreacher would have to wait.

After a quick shower and shave, Sirius put his new wand to use and gave himself a haircut. Now his black hair, which had hung past his elbows, was at a decent length. It wasn't too short, of course, but it was short enough that Sirius figured he wouldn't scare Harry when he went to see him in the morning. With that, Sirius apparated to Lupin's house.

Dinner was brilliant. Sirius hadn't had a decent meal in three years, for even after his release his meals had been on the go as he went from one hearing to another. He ate his steak with relish, listening as Remus told him of all that had transpired since he had been taken to Azkaban. Sirius had picked up some of the basics- his mother's death, for instance- from Ministry officials. Other news had yet to reach him, and he knew that he could have spent the whole night allowing Remus to catch him up. Certainly it felt good to just talk with his old friend.

Around midnight, though, Sirius knew he had to be getting home. He planned to see Harry tomorrow, and as Harry wouldn't remember the man from when he was a baby, Sirius wanted to make a good first impression. Lupin seemed to realize Sirius's thoughts, for he stopped talking and stood up. Sirius wasn't surprised. They had been friends for so long that it seemed natural for Lupin to be privy to Sirius's thoughts.

"It's been great talking to you, Moony," Sirius said. It seemed a shame to depart when they hadn't seen each other in so long, but he really did need to get home.

"Of course, Padfoot. Any time."

The next morning, Sirius was up at the crack of dawn. He hadn't slept well the night before, as his mattress seemed to be infested with all sorts of weird bugs. He would definitely be talking to Kreacher this afternoon. As it was, he charmed them away but couldn't bring himself to lie back down. Instead, he paced around the household, anxious to get going.

By nine o'clock, Sirius couldn't stand waiting any longer. He figured that the muggles had to be up at this point. If not, well, he'd get them up. He had waited for three years to see his godson, and it was killing him enough to know that he wouldn't bring the boy home today. That wouldn't be fair to anyone, he knew, so he would be giving Harry and the Dursleys some time to say goodbye. It didn't mean that he was going to put off seeing the boy, though.

He apparated to Surrey and walked to the respectable muggle neighborhood in which he knew that the Dursleys resided. He felt strange, dressed in prim and proper muggle clothes, walking down the neat and tidy muggle street. It was unnatural. He put up with it, though, having been warned by Dumbledore that the Dursleys wouldn't think kindly of him if he messed up their reputation in their muggle neighborhood.

Sirius paused outside the door to number four, Privet Drive. He was intending to take a breath, but then he heard shouting. He frowned and wondered if he should come back later. It probably wasn't a good idea for him to show up telling the Dursleys he'd be taking Harry away from them if they were already in a bad mood. When he heard the words, though, he was singing a different tune.

"-filthy rotten freak! Look at the awful job you did with the floor. You've been slacking off on your chores all week. I ought to tan your hide!"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

The second voice had called the first man uncle. That could only be Harry. Sirius felt his blood begin to boil. There was no way in hell that he was going to let anyone talk to his godson like that! The door slammed open and he stepped in, wand raised as he made his way to the voices.

The site he was met with stopped him cold. Vernon, who he recognized from Lilly and James's wedding, was standing with his back to Sirius. His hand was clasped around the overly large grey shirt of a young boy, and was thus pinning him against the wall. Sirius's eyes were wide as saucers at the site, knowing that the young boy could only be Harry.

The boy was a filthy mass of dirt and grime. He was thin and sickly looking, his green eyes sunken, his hair matted to his head with grease. His skin was pale, as though he had never seen the light of day. The clothes he wore were three sizes too large for him and only served to make him look thinner as they draped over the bare bones of his body, and they had been clearly worn by the boy so much that by now they were mere rags. The thing that really sent Sirius over the edge, though, was that he seemed to be covered from head to foot in gashes and bruises.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing!" he roared, his wand pointed menacingly at Vernon Dursley.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks to all of you for your reviews! I'm glad that you guys seem to be liking my story so far, at least as far as I can tell… Maybe you could try and give me some more constructive criticism, though? It gets boring if all I hear is that I'm doing great and should continue. Nice enough if it's true, good ego boost, but it's more fun if I get told something I can improve or am given suggestions along the way… That's one of the things I don't get much at home. I just get "it's good" or "it's bad." I'd rather, "it's good, but…" or "it's bad, because…" Constructive criticism presents a challenge, something for me to strive towards. I know I said that this was my first fan fiction, and it's true, but don't think that means you ought to go easy on me. I'm not a beginning writer by any means. I've been writing for the past 10 years- since I was six- and before that I was making up stories and acting them out w/ my brother's action figures. I'm not new at it, I'm only new at these particular characters. I turned to fan fiction because I wanted more feedback on my writing, not because I wanted to get big headed. **

**Anonymous: I'm glad for your input on the Weasley situation. You're probably right that a lot of people befriend Harry and Ron too early and that it's fake. I thought about the comment, in any case. However, that chapter wasn't really about Harry and Ron. It was about Arthur Weasley. I wrote it to show my belief that he would have been one of the first people to believe Sirius; nobody else was offering to let him into Diagon Alley. They were all staring at him, but Arthur helped him out. And I don't think that it's weird that Arthur would know him. I did explain that Sirius and Arthur didn't know each other well, after all. Rowling does show in her books that they know of each other, though, when Sirius is showing Harry his family tree. I didn't look at them as knowing each other well. I looked at them as being in acquaintance with one another. You don't need to be much more than that to help a person out if they need it. That's what I was trying to show with that particular scene. **

Vernon Dursley stared, bug eyed, at his intruder. He had been so busy with his nephew that he hadn't even heard the man come in. Now he found himself faced with a madman wielding a wand as one would a sword. What was he to do? Curse Petunia for telling him to get rid of his gun (she had been afraid that Harry would find a way to use it on Dudley). Now he was left defenseless.

He summoned up what courage he had, raising himself to his full height and staring the man down, pudgy face red with indignation, "Who the hell are you? Get out of my house!"

Sirius, of course, had no intention of getting out of his house, nor was he daft enough to be intimidated by the daft man's loud voice, knowing full well that he was armed and Vernon was not. He didn't even bother to respond to Vernon's outburst but took a step forward, wand still pointed at Vernon, but eyes fixed on Harry, who was trembling. "It's okay, lad. I won't hurt you."

Vernon turned to Harry as well. He seemed to realize that he was going to have no luck in upsetting the angry man. Instead, he took his fright out on the one pitiful being he knew he could intimidate, shaking Harry like a rag doll in his massive hand, "Look what you did, you little freak! This is your fault, you know! Somehow you brought this man here, and now he's going to kill us all. This is what you do, isn't it? You summon these freaks to you whenever you get in trouble and they kill off the whole household of people. Huh? Is that why your parents were killed?"

"Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

Harry was now visibly shaking. His face, if possible, was even paler than it had been before. He looked from Sirius to his uncle and back again. Something in the way that Sirius was wielding his wand must have triggered a memory, for he went sort of rigid, and his eyes got a glazed look about him. Then he began to twist and turn in his uncle's arms, and he gave a strangled cry that echoed about the cavernous room and resonated. For a moment it immobilized both of the feuding men, for neither had heard anything quite so chilling before. Harry was seemingly unaware of his surroundings as he continued the one harsh scream, a scream like death itself had come to him, and his body was soon drenched in a cold sweat.

"Enough!" Sirius shouted when he at last collected himself.

With a wave of his wand, Sirius thrust Vernon away from the child, who fell unceremoniously to the floor in a heap. Harry was startled from his reverie by the impact, but he continued to shake, and Sirius rushed forward to help the boy to his feet. At Sirius's touch, Harry jumped as if burned and backed himself into the farthest corner of the kitchen. The venomous look he shot at Sirius tore through his heart. He turned his face away to hide his pain, and spotted Vernon, whom he had forgotten, looking at Harry as though he were some sort of infectious disease.

"You don't deserve to live," Sirius said softly. In a moment, he was next to Vernon, his wand at the man's throat. Sirius was shaking in his effort to restrain himself, his hatred for the man was so profound. Vernon was crying, silent tears running down his beefy face and into his mustache, but Sirius felt no remorse. In the same silky voice, he whispered, "I'll spare you this time, Muggle, for I don't think Harry needs to see any more death in his lifetime. However, if you don't cooperate with me, I might reconsider."

Harry was watching the scene in front of him with a shrewd eye. He hated them both, though at four years old he didn't know how to say as much. As far as he was concerned, the two men in front of him were one in the same; hard, cold men who used intimidation as a means of gaining respect. One would expect that someone who had been bullied by his uncle for his entire life would be glad to see him taken down a notch, but Harry was not. He could care less about his uncle, but it wasn't in his nature to enjoy the sight of someone being threatened. He was all too familiar with how it felt to be in that situation.

Sirius stepped away from Vernon, leaving the man to massage his throat. He turned to Harry, who by this point had gotten shakily to his feet. Harry wasn't looking at Sirius, though. He was looking at his uncle… Was that pity in his eyes? Harry's voice was feeble as he said the only words Sirius had as yet heard come from his mouth. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

"Harry," Sirius said, drawing the child's attention from his uncle, "Get your things together. You're coming with me."

Harry didn't say a word, but he took a defiant step away from Sirius, towards his uncle. His bright green eyes were fixed and unforgiving. Sirius felt a wrench inside his soul. He had told himself that it might not be easy to get the four year old away from his relatives, but inside he had thought that it would be no problem. When he got here, it was evident that Harry had been abused. Why did he want to stay? The only reason Sirius could come up with was that, much as Harry disliked his relatives, he disliked Sirius more… It was a conclusion that rendered him devastated.

"Please, Harry," he whispered, "I won't hurt you. Come with me."

Harry made to take another step towards his uncle, but to Sirius's surprise, Vernon stopped the boy, raising his hand. "No, Harry. Go with him."

His uncle's voice wasn't what one would call kind, but it was the first time in Harry's life that he had been addressed by his uncle in anything other than a gruff bark. He stared in amazement, confused tears forming in his young eyes. His uncle was finally showing him something akin to compassion, and it was the one thing that Harry had dreamed of for as long as he could remember. Why was it that it happened when he was going away? For Harry was a smart child, and he knew that, much as he tried to dissuade the strange man, he would wind up leaving with him today, one way or another. Especially since his uncle, for whatever reason, seemed to be agreeing with the man. There would be no battle in Harry's defense. With that knowledge firmly in his mind, he gave in, turning away from his uncle.

"Good lad," Sirius said, the words strained in his pain at Harry's fear of him. "Let's get your things together. Bring me to your room."

At this audacious command, Harry stared at Sirius with understandable confusion. At least, it was understandable if you knew of Harry's current living situation. Sirius did not, and he was a bit impatient as he said, "Harry, bring me to where you sleep at night."

Harry nodded, for this was language he understood. He completely missed the warning look that his uncle gave him as he made his way out into the hall, for he had decided that it would be easier for him if he didn't look at the man- out of sight, out of mind. Vernon could do nothing but waddle anxiously into the hall after the pair and watch as Harry made to open the door to his cupboard.

Sirius stared at Harry, confusion and disbelief strewn across his face. He frowned when Harry tried to open the cupboard door and was unsuccessful. Vernon, watching these events, was well aware that Sirius did not seemed entirely convinced. Of course, he thought. It was really quite simple. He would convince the man that Harry was confused, and then lead him up to Dudley's second bedroom. Dudley wouldn't even notice if some of the items in that room disappeared, and the frightening wizard wouldn't hex him for mistreating Harry. In was infallible.

"He's confused," Vernon said, cutting in front of Harry, "That's the broom cupboard. I caught him sleeping in there earlier when he was supposed to be doing chores. That's what I was talking to him about when you came in. He must think that you're asking about that. His room is upstairs, I'll show you."

Sirius turned and began to follow Vernon upstairs, but it didn't take him long to realize that Harry wasn't behind them. He started to tell the child to come with them, afraid he would bold at his first chance, and instead found him standing as he had been in front of the closet door, pulling insistently at the knob. Harry hadn't missed the fact that his uncle had been about to cover up his actual sleeping arrangements. What he hadn't understood was why. On the other hand, he had been told his entire life not to lie, and as this stranger scared him much more than his uncle ever had, he wasn't going to risk him finding out that Harry had broken that vital rule.

Sirius glanced from Harry to Vernon before jumping the two stairs he had started up and approaching the cupboard. He motioned with his head for Harry to step to the side, and Vernon watched in horror as he raised his wand, sure that it was for some horrible curse. Sirius wasn't even looking at Vernon, though, but rather at the door. "Alohomora!"

With a click, the cupboard unlocked and swung forward on its hinges. Sirius peered curiously into the dark space, but despite Vernon's assurances that the cupboard held nothing but brooms, he was forced to deal with a far different reality. On the floor of the cupboard lay a nest of tattered blankets and a dingy pillow- a makeshift bed, of sorts. To the left of the pillow was a neat pile of tattered clothes similar to the ones Harry was wearing now, as well as a pair of peeling tennis shoes. To the right of the bed, he saw an assortment of random toys , not a one of which was in one piece. The sight was sickening, to say the least.

Sirius took a trembling step away from the cupboard door. Oh, that man would pay for what he had done to his godson. He would make sure of that. He took a menacing step toward the man, his throat reverberating with a low growl as he raised his wand, prepared to do his worst. What he was unprepared for was a sudden force colliding with the side of his body as Harry rammed his tiny body into him. Harry wasn't much of a threat to Sirius- he doubted if the tiny boy weighed more than ten or fifteen pounds- but the sudden impact caught him off guard. Harry took advantage of his momentary lapse and climbed, monkeylike, up his arm, sinking his teeth into the flesh near Sirius's wrist.

Sirius yelped, for that pain was incredibly prominent. His eyes watered for a few moments, but Harry was relentless, holding onto his flesh like a rabid dog. Sirius was at a loss. He didn't want to cast a spell at the child, for he mistrusted him enough as it was. After a moment, Sirius gave in, "Alright, alright! Truce!"

Harry dropped instantly from Sirius's arms, landing as a cat would on his hands and feet. Sirius shuddered at the wild look in Harry's eyes and the animalistic way in which the boy conducted himself. What kind of world had he grown up in? The boy crouched protectively between Vernon and Sirius, and Sirius half expected him to begin to growl.

"I'll make a deal with you," he told Harry at last, crouching down so that they were at eye level. "I'll leave your uncle alone if you promise to come with me without a fight. Deal?"

Harry stared suspiciously at Sirius. Never in his life had anyone ever compromised with him. Could the man be trusted? Well, if he broke the promise, Harry supposed that he could always fight back. So he gave a tentative nod of his head. Sirius sighed, relieved that he at least wouldn't have to take the boy away forcibly, and massaged his wrist a bit. That was when Harry saw the blood. He winced, and then voiced the only words he had ever been taught to voice. They were the words he used every time he had this same feeling of guilt in the pit of his stomach. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to."

Sirius frowned, but looking at Vernon he noted that the man seemed as confused as he. Sirius looked back at Harry, the confusion furrowing the edges of his black brows. "Harry, my name's Sirius."

Harry nodded, but his eyes were glazed as if he didn't understand in the least. Sirius swallowed. Why was he suddenly thinking that he was in way over his head with this child?

He raised his wand to gather up Harry's few personal belongings. The boy was on him in a flash, his grubby hands digging into Sirius's open wound and yanking. Sirius hissed, immediately distracted by the torturous pain. "Harry! Harry, stop! I wasn't going to do anything to your uncle, I swear. I was just gathering your things together!"

Harry dropped away from Sirius again, shamefaced. He was sobbing now at the look of the damage he had done to Sirius's arms, so much so that he could barely choke out his words. "Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I… I didn't… Sorry, Uncle Vernon… I didn't mean to," he sobbed. Sirius's eyes widened as he finally realized the cold, hard truth. Although Harry understood the basic English language well enough when it was spoken to him, his vocabulary was limited to that one sentence.

"Bandages," Vernon choked, looking at the blood that was dripping from Sirius's wrist onto his crème carpet, "In the kitchen cabinet, above the sink. I'll pack Harry's things."

Sirius nodded at Vernon, whom he had once again managed to forget, "A sweatshirt, too, from your son if need be. Harry, come with me."

Harry followed obediently, his eyes locked on the grotesque gash in Sirius's arm. His mind was muddled, and having acted on pure instinct, he still hadn't quite grasped the fact that it had been he who had done that to the man. It was with a sort of morbid fascination that he watched Sirius awkwardly dress his wound with his left hand. Sirius muttered under his breath as he did so, "The bloody muggle way will have to work until I can get to Hogwarts. Kid obviously doesn't like wands."

Harry followed Sirius back to the hallway when he was done. He could tell by the look on both men's faces that he had done some grievous wrong, but had yet to quite wrap his mind around what it was. Strangely enough, neither man was yelling at him for it. He wasn't sure whether to be happy about that fact, or scared. He settled for shoving the thought from his mind entirely, using his powers of observation to try and deduce what was happening. Things were occurring too fast for his four-year-old brain to keep up.

As for Sirius, he accepted the duffel that Vernon handed him with a curt nod. He was beginning to get dizzy from the pain in his arm, and knew that he had to get out of here as soon as possible. With that thought in mind, he swung the duffel bag over one shoulder and reached a hand out for Harry, who instantly shied away.

Sirius's patience was by now gone entirely. "Harry, we made a deal."

Harry looked at him with confusion, the edge to Sirius's voice not getting past him. He could only think that Sirius intended to beat him, and as far as he was concerned he had conceded to no such thing. How stupid would he be to agree to that, anyway?

"You said you'd come with me," Sirius told the boy, trying to keep himself under control as he noted the child's obvious fear, "So come. I swear I won't hurt you."

Harry took two small steps forward. Without a second thought, Sirius wrapped his arms around the small child's waist and hoisted him up, sickened as he felt through Harry's overly large shirt the skin that clutched to his rib cage. Harry, meanwhile, had stiffened the second Sirius had touched him, and although he did not fight, as per their agreement, neither did he relax.

Out of Harry's line of vision, Sirius clutched his wand and apparated to Hogsmeade. The sensation was abnormal for Harry, who immediately began to shake and cry. Sirius made a halfhearted attempt to quiet the child, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew that he was losing too much blood to be worrying about whether or not the four year old in his arms was happy or not. At least he wasn't squirming, Sirius thought as he set off at a brisk pace towards Hogwarts.

"Albus!" he hollered the second he stepped into the entrance hall, "Albus Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore could have been anywhere in the school, of course, but Sirius knew that he had a knack of showing up wherever and whenever he was needed. Sure enough, he appeared a moment later at the top of the stairs, concern showing on his old, weathered face. When he saw Sirius with a bloody bandage wrapped haphazardly around his arm, and the beaten child in his arms, his concern deepened and he rushed down the stairs. Harry found himself being given to the old man, but as he had yet to have a grudge with this particular person, he didn't object. Dumbledore gave Sirius a questioning look, but Sirius shook his head, signaling that this was not the time to discuss anything, and started towards the hospital wing.

Poppy Pomfrey was reading through some of her medical books when she heard a great deal of clanging coming from the other room. Her lips pursed in anger at being disrupted, and she stormed from her office in a huff, "Honestly, is all this noise really necessary."

Sirius looked up, and gave a halfhearted smile at the mediwitch, "If it gets you out of your office that quickly, then yes. Now, normally I'd ask you to clean Harry up before me, but his injuries are mainly old ones that have clotted over by now, whereas I am still losing blood." He held his arm out expectantly.

**A/N: This isn't necessarily where I had been intending to go with this chapter… Scratch that, I wound up exactly where I intended to wind up, but the path getting there was a little more crooked than it had been in my mind's eye. Hope you enjoy it, regardless. **


	4. Chapter 4

-1**A/N: Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and especially to Jennadancer and BeautifulllDisaster09 for saying more than the basic "this is good." And, by popular demand (or popular in my eyes, I've never written a fan fiction before so this might be less than popular compared to normal standards) here's chapter 4!**

Sirius breathed a sigh of relief as he closed to door to the hospital wing softly behind him. It had taken a long time to settle Harry down enough to get him to sleep. With the potions he had been given, he really needed to sleep in order to be cured. The problem was that it was still early in the day. Sirius had fought with Harry to try and get him to sleep until lunchtime, when Poppy had managed to slip some dreamless sleep potion into the boy's juice. Even with the potion, the child was so stubbornly adamant that he shouldn't sleep that Sirius was beginning to wonder if, perhaps, he was stronger than the magic. Finally, near two o'clock, Harry had dozed off.

Dumbledore had been wanting to talk to him. That was evident from the beginning, of course. For once in his life, though, Sirius wanted to talk to Dumbledore as well. He needed advice. Was he in way too deep? He knew that it was important for Harry to be raised correctly, but was he really the best man for the job? Already he was losing his patience with the tiny child. He had been so sure of himself this morning when he'd left the house. What had happened?

"Sirius," Dumbledore said wearily. He had left the hospital wing an hour before with some vague excuse about needing to get something from his office, but Sirius knew that the reality was that it pained the old man to see that something had gone seriously wrong with Harry, and know that he had been the one to cause that. For it was obvious that Dumbledore would blame himself.

Sure enough, Dumbledore appeared within moments of Sirius leaving the hospital wing. Sirius wasn't surprised. He turned warily to face the older man. Already he was exhausted with taking care of the four year old, and as yet he hadn't done anything more than keep the child in bed. That was enough of a feat. Harry had been anxious, as if afraid of what would happen to him if he lay abed in the daytime. That was something he'd have to look into, later…

"What's wrong with him?" Dumbledore questioned, jolting Sirius from his thoughts.

Sirius gave a helpless shrug of his shoulders. How should he know what was wrong with the little boy? He didn't know anything about kids! Sure, he figured that Harry looked short and skinny for his age, but he was no doctor, so who was he to say that the boy was malnourished? That wasn't his job. He didn't have the training for that. Nor did he have the training to say that Harry had been severely neglected, though he had the evidence of Harry's animalistic behavior right in front of his nose.

"Sirius," Dumbledore whispered, "Are you prepared to handle whatever it is?"

Sirius looked up in confusion. How could he promise that when he didn't know what it was? How could he promise that he would love and nurture the child when he didn't know what the future would hold for them? He swallowed. Parents did that every day, when they took a child into their homes. There was never any guarantee that your child would turn out to be an upstanding citizen. All you could do was do your best and see what happened.

"Sirius," Dumbledore repeated, his voice urgent, "You need to be very sure about that. Harry's in a critical stage, as far as I can see. He needs someone who will support him and be patient with him while also teaching him how he should be behaving. If you're not prepared to do that, then it is important that you admit that to yourself. What's best for Harry?"

His words bounced off of Sirius for a few minutes. What was he talking about? What did he mean, what was important to Harry? When he finally understood the meaning of the words, he emanated a sharp whistle as he sucked a lungful of air through his teeth, "It's either me or St. Mungo's, isn't it?"

Dumbledore inclined his head. Sirius felt as if his world was crashing in around him. He had been so sure that his freedom from Azkaban would solve everything. Was young Harry really that bad off? Sirius felt a twinge in his arm where the small child had bitten him and then ripped at the open wound. But… He had been scared then. Surely he wasn't always like that?

"James's son…" Sirius whispered. "I can't send James's son to St. Mungo's."

Dumbledore nodded as if he expected that answer, but Sirius couldn't tell if that was a good thing or not. What he did know was that being Harry's godfather was a lot more taxing than he ever could have guessed four years ago when James asked him if he was interested. Even without sending Harry to the hospital, he might have to hire specialists to help work with him… First, though, he'd see what he could do by himself.

"You should probably get some sleep," Dumbledore told Sirius, "You had some quick cure potions as well, and tomorrow is bound to be a long day for you."

Sirius nodded his thanks and slipped quietly back into the hospital wing, lying down on the bed opposite Harry's. He was so exhausted that being in his clothes didn't even matter at this point. He just kicked off his shoes and then rolled over, falling into a deep slumber.

Sirius heard crying. He didn't recognize what it was at first. His years at Azkaban had gotten him to grow accustomed to loud screams and shrieks entering his dreams. This was more quiet and subtle, almost a whimper disrupting his dreams. He blinked, sitting up slowly, his mind still muddled and uncomprehending. It wasn't until he recognized that he was in the hospital wing that he remembered the day before. Then he sat up quickly and whipped around.

Harry was curled in a ball on his bed. His clothes were soaked through; he had wet himself. Now he was rocking back and forth in the mess, looking almost fearful about what he'd done, quiet tears running down his face. To see him so forlorn and scared made Sirius's blood boil, and he jumped up without thinking.

Harry shrieked and backed as far towards the wall as he could. Sirius silently cursed himself for his insensitivity. He'd have to work on that. Harry was too jumpy and skittish for Sirius to be leaping around like a madman. He told himself to slow down and approach the boy with caution. He didn't want to relive the previous day's experiences.

"Harry," he said, stooping down next to Harry's bed so he was at eye level with the child and taking care not to keep the bark from his voice, "What's wrong?"

Harry shuddered but didn't answer. He was now rocking back and forth, his tiny arms wrapped tightly around his legs as though he were trying to make himself as small as possible. Sirius wondered what he had done to make Harry so afraid of him. How could he right a wrong he didn't remember committing?

"Harry," he whispered, "Please don't be scared of me. I won't hurt you, I swear. You have to talk to me."

Harry's big green eyes stared straight ahead, taking no notice of Sirius whatsoever. It was as if he had turned off his senses, and the thought that he could so deaden himself left Sirius feeling torn apart inside. Sirius felt so helpless right now, even more than he had when he'd been a prisoner in Azkaban. At least then he could take some responsibility for the way he was feeling inside. Now he could have none, and without being able to take responsibility for the wrong it seemed as though he couldn't fix it either.

Sirius reached his hands out to pick Harry up off of the defaced mattress. Having seen how Harry had been reacting to him in the past day, Sirius anticipated his wince, but it didn't come. Harry didn't seem to notice him at all, and Sirius didn't know which was worse. He sighed, setting Harry to the side of the mattress and carefully pulling the sheets off of the bed. He and Harry would be departing from Hogwarts early, it seemed. Sirius wanted to get Harry home to a bath. It seemed like the best way to deal with the child. He left a note on the table telling Madam Pomfrey and Dumbledore the situation before taking the seemingly lifeless Harry into his arms once more.

"Harry," he whispered, practically pleading with the boy now, "Please look at me."

Somehow, miraculously, the words seemed to have an affect on the boy. He blinked a few times and looked around as if dazed. Finding himself in the air, in the arms of a man to whom he felt only fear, he began to flail and thrash wildly, letting out a strangled shriek. Sirius was almost relieved, for at least now Harry was reacting to him. It was better than him sitting there looking practically dead, in any case.

"Harry, it's okay," he said soothingly, his free hand capable of restraining the tiny child without too much effort. "You had a bad dream last night and had an accident. I'm taking you home to take a bath."

Harry stopped screaming. Sirius looked at him in surprise. It seemed that despite his seemingly animal instincts, Harry understood the English language with no problem at all. Why, then, did he not speak? Or was it that he was simply afraid of speaking, of revealing that he knew too much? Did he think that by keeping quiet, he was somehow safer? That's how it seemed to Sirius, in any case. And he began to look at Harry differently. It seemed to him that Harry wasn't as savage as he had first appeared. Not savage at all, really. Just scared.

Operating under that impression would make dealing with Harry a whole lot easier, if he was correct. If he could anticipate Harry's fears ahead of time and warn him against them, perhaps he would someday be able to gain Harry's trust. He would try to, in any case, "Harry… We're going to be traveling to my house by something called floo powder. It can seem like a scary way to travel if you're not used to it, so I want you to be prepared. It's going to look like we're stepping into fire, but I promise that it won't hurt you once I put in some special powder, okay? And when we're moving we're going to spin around a little. If you close your eyes you won't feel as dizzy."

He wondered if Harry could possibly have understood all of that. It seemed like a lot to throw at a four year old. He glanced at Harry's face, which showed a slight hint of apprehension but was less fearful than it had been. Well, whether or not Harry had fully comprehended his words, it seemed that he had at least accomplished what he had wanted to accomplish.

When Sirius had finished bathing Harry and had served him breakfast, he gave the boy a couple of picture books to look at in the living room, placing wards on the doors so Harry wouldn't be able to run off. Sirius was a proud man, but he wasn't so proud as to not realize how much he needed help and advice right now. He decided to give a firecall to Lupin. After all, Lupin was his best friend and he valued his opinion above anyone else's.

"Sirius," Lupin asked with a smile when Sirius's head appeared in his fireplace, "Miss me already, do you?"

Sirius rolled his eyes, "It's about Harry."

"Oh, that's right. You went to see him yesterday. How'd that go?"

"Bad." Sirius said. It took him nearly ten minutes to fill Lupin in on the current situation, and by the end of the story Lupin was looking as angry as Sirius had ever seen him. He shuddered, knowing how dangerous it could be to anger a werewolf, and was glad to know that Lupin's anger couldn't possibly be directed at him.

"So," Lupin said at last, "Harry is totally uncivilized and underdeveloped?"

"Yeah. In short," Sirius said. "What should I do about it? Should I get a specialist?"

"No," Lupin said, "Harry needs to feel like you're the one in charge. There's nothing they can do for Harry that you can't. Not really, anyway. Either way you look at it, it's an adult trying to control Harry. He is bound to respond negatively no matter what."

"So I can't do anything for him?" Sirius asked incredulously. He had expected Lupin to make him feel better, not worse.

"That's not what I said. I said getting a specialist to help you wouldn't do too much. I suggest teenagers."

"What are you playing at?"

"What Harry needs, it seems, is to see kids behaving as they should. If it seems like they aren't trying to teach him anything, but are just expecting him to act the same as they do, then he is likely to adapt to their behaviors rather quickly. The behaviors of a normal child. Teenagers would be the best age to get to mentor him, because they are not so impressionable that his behavior would rub off on them, but they are not in such a position of authority that Harry with withdraw from them."

Sirius frowned. Lupin's arguments seemed solid enough, but it seemed a bit backwards to him that he should send teenagers in to try and teach his godson how to behave. If he couldn't do it, why should they be able to? Still… The fact was that he couldn't do it alone. If word got out that Harry needed specialists to work with him, he would never get it off his back for the rest of his life. He was too well known for the news to go unnoticed, and Sirius doubted that many would care that he was four years old and had been abused. All they would see for the rest of Harry's life would be a maniac.

"We could try it," Sirius told Lupin at last, "I will take any help I can get at this point. Of course, I'll be working with him all day and stuff, but if you could find a kid to send over in the afternoon I'd entertain the idea."

"I can do better than that," Lupin said cheerfully, "I can find three. I told you that my neighbor has been having me watch her daughter because she's too sick? I've been taking care of Elizabeth for two months now, except for during the full moon. She needs to have something to do in the afternoon, and she's great with kids. I'm sure she'd be glad to hang out with Harry for a couple of hours in the afternoon, especially if I said that she could invite over her boyfriend and his best friend. The three of them are practically inseparable, Elizabeth's modest enough that she doesn't need strict supervision around them, and it would help Harry to have both male and female influences."

Sirius looked at Lupin in surprise, only just realizing that his friend had played him in order to find something to keep the teenage girl out of trouble… Yet, the more he thought about it, the more Lupin's plan seemed to make sense. It seemed like a plan that would work, and it would help all involved participants out. If the teenagers didn't have an affect on Harry, he knew that he'd be forced to bring specialists in the mix… There was no point in getting rid of his options now, though.

"Sounds good," Sirius said, "Can you send them over next Monday? I should have the house basically in order by then."

"No problem."


End file.
